


forget love: fall in coffee

by decinq



Series: forget love: fall in coffee [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decinq/pseuds/decinq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack orders soup and a sandwich, and Eric gets a lunch wrap that he says “is absolutely to die for.” He offers Jack a bite, and Jack blushes, but leans across their table to take a bite anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	forget love: fall in coffee

**Author's Note:**

> there was a stronger reaction to the first part of this than i was ever expecting, and i wanted to procrastinate my paper writing tonight, so here's this! there's like...basically no coffee shop stuff in this, a coffee shop au, but i couldn't be bothered. big, big, big thank you to my super talented, amazing friend [idrilka](http://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilka) for lending me a very special someone (my truest love!! he's in here!! my boy!!) in this story.

 

The bell above the door dings, and Jack looks up from his phone to see Eric scan the room for him. He smiles and raises his hand in a wave when he sees Jack, and Jack relaxes. He slips his phone into his pocket before standing.

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Eric says. He unloops his scarf from around his neck, and sets it over the back of the chair. “My bike lock was frosty.”

 

Jack says, “Don’t worry about it,” even though he’d been worried about it.

 

Eric smiles, then, and tosses his messenger bag onto his chair. “You have to let me treat you, though. I made you wait.”

 

Jack makes to protest, because it really doesn’t make sense. Jack’s a millionaire, he’s happy to treat Eric to lunch. He starts to say,”No, I--”

 

“You can get it next time,” Eric says. His cheeks flush, and Jack smiles, huge and a bit silly.

 

“Okay,” Jack says.

 

 

 

 

Jack orders soup and a sandwich, and Eric gets a lunch wrap that he says “is absolutely to die for.” He offers Jack a bite, and Jack blushes, but leans across their table to take a bite anyway.

 

Jack blows on his soup before trying it, and then hums. “This is good. This was a good suggestion.”

 

Eric smiles, chews for a few seconds and nods. “It’s really good. Someone at school told me about it last year, and it’s been my favourite ever since.”

 

Jack nods along, but doesn’t really know what to say. He’s had any number of conversations with Eric, but they’ve always been in Starbucks, while Eric was working. This feels so different, and Jack can't pinpoint the reason why.

 

Jack says, “Do you like it better than your work? It’s not that different, really.” He looks around. This place has more food than coffee options, but they made Eric some fancy latte with Earl Grey tea in it, which doesn’t seem all that off the mark of Starbucks.

 

“It’s so different, goodness.” He smiles, then whispers, “This place is better.”

 

Jack smirks. “Do you like your job?”

 

Eric makes a face, crinkles his nose and narrows his eyes a bit. “I don’t not like it,” he says. “It’s...okay.”

 

“Just okay?”

  
Eric laughs. “I try not to complain about it. Once I start, I have a hard time stopping.”

 

Jack eats his soup, and asks Eric about school instead. He chatters about his classes, about his thesis. Jack tells him about his own thesis, and Eric nods along.

 

“That sounds incredible. I’ve only taken one history course, but I really enjoyed it. A bit more reading than I’m used to, with all the research, but I’m glad I did it.”

 

“Are you considering pursuing graduate studies?” Jack asks.

 

Eric shrugs. “I don’t know, it seems like a lot. I’m not really sure what I want to do. My dreams have always been…” He trails off, and Jack has to nudge him under the table with his foot.

 

Jack says, “You can tell me if you want,” quiet, and a bit unsure.

 

Eric says, “Domestic. Pedestrian.” He shrugs. “I just want to be happy.”

 

Jack smiles. “Those all sound like great goals to me.”

 

“Not quite like playing in the NHL, though.”

 

“It’s not--” He frowns, and then he shakes his head. “It’s amazing, most days, but it’s not. It’s not everything.”

 

“No?” Eric asks. He pushes his plate to the side, and leans back in his chair. He’s holding his mug in his hands, and he looks so open, like he was designed to sit across from anyone in a coffeeshop and give away his attention. He looks like he was made for fall, the soft freckles that scatter across his nose that have faded as the leaves have fallen, his hair soft and sweeping to the side, his plaid sleeves rolled up his forearms. Jack wants to tell him everything.

 

“It’s…” He shrugs.

 

Eric says, “You can tell me.” He smiles softly, and his eyes look fond. “If you want to.”

 

Jack bites his lip, then nods. “It’s kind of lonely, and the guys I play with are great but. I don’t know. I think I was expecting something else.”

 

Eric frowns, and he looks sad. “Like what?” He doesn’t sound accusatory, just curious.

 

Jack shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s satisfying, and it feels great to win. I love working hard and I love seeing the results of that. I love playing hockey. I think. I don’t know, I guess I thought the rest of my life would fall into place with it. Does that make sense?”

 

Eric says, “Yeah, actually. I think so. Expectations versus reality. Never goes the way we want.”

  
  
  
  


 

They talk about their favourite players growing up, and Jack admits to having had a pretty big crush on Cam Barker when he was a teenager. Eric laughs and says, “I think I knew I was gay because of Malkin, so.”

 

Jack says, “They were both drafted in oh-four.”

 

Eric smiles and says, “I know.” He smiles and says, “I had a pretty big crush on you, too, when you were first coming up. I had a friend, Sam, and she was gone on Parson. There weren’t many big hockey fans where I grew up, so we stuck together like glue.”

 

Jack smiles and quirks his eyebrows a bit, bites at the insides of his lip and says, “Had?”

 

Eric flushes, stutters, a through a “No, I. No, Uhm. I just. Shit.” His cheeks are pink and he looks sheepish.

 

Jack says, “Do you still talk to her? Your friend?”

 

Eric nods, says, “Sometimes. I see her when I go home.”

 

Jack says, “Give me your phone.”

 

Eric’s eyes go wide, but he hands it over. There’s still a bit of colour high on his cheeks when Jack opens snap chat, takes a photo of himself, and then types out a caption. He scrolls through Eric’s contacts until he gets to S, then says, “Fitzpatrick or Whitley?”

 

Eric groans and says, “Show me what it says first.”

 

Jack shakes his head. “No way.”

 

Eric rolls his eyes, but smiles. “Whitley.” Jack selects her name and hits send. “What did you say?”

 

“You’ll never know,” Jack says, smiling. Eric kicks gently at his feet under the table, and Jack catches Eric’s foot between his calves. “When do you need to leave for class? I can drive you.”

 

Eric takes his phone back, then peeks at the time. “Probably soon. I have my bike, I’ll ride over.”

 

“I have a truck,” Jack says. “We can throw it in the bed.”  
  


Eric hesitates, then says, “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

 

“It’s fine,” Jack says. “I’m happy to do it.”

  
  


 

 

 

The time it takes to drive to Brown is mostly taken up by Bittle berating Jack’s music selection off his phone. Jack’s lived his whole life being teased by people close to him, but Eric’s chirping is impressive and honestly kind of ruthless, and if Jack weren’t already entirely charmed, this would probably be the straw that broke his back. Jack puts his hazard lights on when he pulls up outside the building Eric directed them to, and hops out of the driver’s seat. He opens the bed of the truck and sets Eric’s road bike onto the sidewalk.

 

“Thank you again,” Eric says. “You really didn’t need to.”

 

Jack shrugs his shoulders. A group of girls across the street have either recognized him or are trying to figure out why they know his face but can’t place his name. He says, “I wanted to.”

 

“Well, still.” Eric says, “Thanks.”

 

Jack smiles, and says, “If we weren’t in public, I’d probably try to kiss you.”

 

Eric looks up at Jack’s face, then away. He bites his lips and says, “I’d probably let you.”

 

Jack has butterflies in his stomach. “Do you work tomorrow?”

 

Eric nods. “I start at three.”

 

Jack frowns. “I won’t see you until I’m back from Carolina, probably.”

 

Eric asks, “When are you home?”

 

“We leave tomorrow, come back Wednesday night. More like Thursday morning.”

 

Eric hoists his messenger bag onto his shoulder, and fiddles with the handlebars of his bike. “You’ll know where to find me.” He says, “I really gotta go, I’m gonna be late for class,” but he doesn’t move.

 

Jack reaches up to touch Eric’s shoulder, and he says, “I had a really good time.”

 

Eric beams up at him, and he says, “So did I.”

 

“Can I text you while I’m gone?” Jack asks.

 

Eric steps back and hoists himself onto his bike. “Definitely.”

 

“Cool,” Jack says.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

They text a lot. Jack texts Eric when they’re on the bus, and texts Eric from the hotel. They both end up watching the same episode of Chopped, Eric in his dorm and Jack in a hotel in Carolina, and they text about that. Cory complains about Jack’s incessant texting, so Jack throws a pillow at him. Then texts Eric about that, too.

  
  
  
  
  


When Jack is back in Providence, he and Eric go for dinner at a small Italian place that George recommends. They drink a bottle of wine and Jack’s cheeks hurt from smiling. Jack talks about his parents, and Eric talks about growing up in the south. Jack tells him that he wants to get a dog. “I’ve never said that out loud to anyone before,” Jack says, and Eric flushes. Whenever Jack gets him to laugh, it’s the new proudest moment of Jack’s life, and he wants to keep trying to get Eric’s eyes to turn to crescents, wants to keep trying to get his lips to turn up in the corners.

  
  
  
  
  


 

Jack finishes his run and slips into Eric’s store before heading up to his apartment. He’s sweaty, probably smells horrible, but he wants a smoothie, and he hasn’t been grocery shopping in a while, and he definitely has no bananas at home.

 

When he goes inside, there’s no line, and Shitty says, “Jacky boy, how’s it shakin’?”

 

Jack smiles, says, “Good, dude, how’re you?”

 

“Not too shabby,” he says. “What can I do you for?”

 

Jack settles in front of the till, and takes out his phone to pull up his card. “Um,” he says. “Eric normally makes me a smoothie that’s uh. I don’t know how to order it.”

 

“What’s it taste like?”

 

“Orange? Banana? Strawberries? I don’t know.”

 

Shitty smiles. “I think I got you.” He marks up a cup, and a red headed boy that Jack doesn’t recognize starts making it. “If it doesn’t taste like what you normally have, we’ll fix it.”

 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Jack says. Shitty scans his card barcode from his phone app, and Jack says, "Thank you."

 

Shitty serves coffee to a guy behind Jack, and Jack sits up at the bar. When he’s done, Shitty comes to stand by Jack and says, “So.”

 

Jack looks up at him, and he feels his cheeks turning pink. “So?” Jack asks.

 

“How’s that...thing going? The thing Bits won’t let me ask him about. That thing.”

 

“Uh,” Jack says. “Will I get in trouble if I say good?” Shitty’s smile is wide, and Jack continues, “I hope good.” Jack doesn’t know if it’s appropriate, but he says, quiet, “I um. I really like him.”

 

Shitty smiles, and the red headed kid slides Jack’s smoothie across the bar to him. “That’s good,” Shitty says, and his smile is mischievous enough that he knows Shitty won’t tell Jack anything back.

 

Jack says, “I hope so.” He takes a sip of his smoothie, and it’s exactly what Eric usually makes him. “This is it,” he says. “Thank you.”

  
  
  


 

 

Jack gives Eric three tickets to their game against Dallas, and he brings Shitty and another of his coworkers, who they call Lardo. They sit near the glass, and Jack skates by them and waves during warm ups. They don’t win, but he scores, and he’s happy.

  
  


 

 

The third time they do anything together--which Jack wants to call a date but is unsure about--Jack sits with Eric while Eric does research for a paper. Jack meets Eric on campus at four, and they set up camp on the second floor of the library. Jack reads for a while. He watches other students come and go. Around six, he leaves to go find them dinner, and comes back after wandering around campus for twenty minutes before he found a strip of restaurants.

 

He hands Eric his box of stirfry, and Eric’s fingers linger on Jack’s. “You really don’t need to stay,” Eric says, chopsticks held halfway to his mouth.

 

“Am I distracting you?” Jack asks. Eric’s mouth is full, but he shakes his head, no. “So it’s okay if I stay?”

 

Eric swallows after barely chewing. “I feel bad. You must be bored.”

 

“I’m all good,” Jack says. “I like watching you work. Worse comes to worse, I’ll just kick Cory’s ass at Words With Friends.”

 

Eric says, “If you’re sure.” Jack nods, smiles, and Eric says, “Thank you for dinner. I’m sorry I’m not very good company.”

 

Jack presses their ankles together under the table and says, “You’re great company.”

  
  


Just after nine, Jack reaches over Eric’s book, folds the corner of the page down, and says, “Let’s go.”

 

Eric stretches his neck, and it cracks when he bends to the left, then the right. “Yeah, okay.”

 

They clear their garbage, and Jack puts some of the textbooks he’d pulled off a shelf back onto a cart to be sorted and put away. Eric shoulders his bag and says, “Thanks for staying for so long.”

 

Jack nods. “I like spending time with you.”

 

They leave the library building and Eric says, “I’m this way,” pointing away from where Jack is parked. Jack just follows him, doesn’t say anything about it. Jack wants to reach out and take Eric’s hand. He wants to press their mouths together under the lamp light. He wants to sneak his hands up under Eric’s coat and touch the warm skin at his back.

 

Instead, he knocks the backs of their hands together, and Eric smiles up at him, and it feels almost the same.

 

When they get to Eric’s building, Jack follows him up the stairs. When he open his front door, he says, “Nurse, I’m home.”

 

Nothing happens for a few seconds, and Eric shrugs. He pulls his shoes off and says, “You want some tea or something? We’ve got some pie in the kitchen from yesterday.”

 

“What kind of pie?” Jack asks as he toes off his shoes.

 

“It’s blueberry. I was going to make apple, but we had some frozen berries, and they’re all out for the season, so I wanted to treat myself.”

 

“Wait, you made it?” Jack asks. “I was going to politely decline, but if you made it then I definitely want to try.”

 

“Yeah, I made it.” Eric flushes, and leads Jack through the small quad style dorm. “Living room is there. Bedrooms are down the hall there. Kitchen’s this way. Bathrooms are between the bedrooms.”

 

“Do you bake often?”

 

Eric serves two slices of pie into bowls, balances them into the microwave, and says, “Not as much as I’d like. I used to, uh, have a video blog? Where I talked about baking and stuff.”

 

“Can I see it?” Jack asks, and Eric’s eyes go wide.

 

“No way,” he says, and starts laughing. “It’s a bit. It’s embarrassing. No one I know in real life has ever seen it.”

 

The microwave dings, and Eric takes their bowls out. He opens the freezer and pulls out a small container of ice cream. He scoops a spoonful into each bowl, then sticks the spoon into the middle of the slice of pie and hands the whole thing over to Jack. Jack takes it, and then Eric grabs his own from the counter. Jack doesn’t often indulge in dessert like this, but when he takes a bite, he knows it's worth it. He moans, and says, “Are you sure you made this?”

 

“That’s rude,” Eric says, but he’s smiling. “It’s good?”

 

Jack has his mouth full with another bite, and he groans around it. “Really good,” he mumbles around the pie, and Eric smiles again.

 

Jack finishes his pie faster than is probably appropriate, and then he leans back against the counter and watches as Eric finishes his own. Jack takes a moment to appreciate the sheer amount of coincidence that led them to this point; any million of combinations of things had to happen for Jack to go into Eric’s Starbucks before looking at his apartment, and so many wonderful coincidences met and pooled together to make this moment possible. Jack wonders what he did right to end up in Eric’s kitchen, dirty dishes discarded at his elbow. He smiles, and Eric smiles back, and then softly, says, “Jack.”

 

Jack stands up straight and steps towards Eric. “Yeah?”

 

He shakes his head. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to stay for coffee, but that just seems ridiculous.”

 

A laugh bursts out of Jack, and he takes Eric’s bowl from his hands, and sets it aside. “I’m going to kiss you,” Jack says, and Eric nods, biting his lips.

 

Jack steps into Eric’s space, and Eric’s hands move to rest on Jack’s side. Jack ducks his head, and softly presses his lips to Eric’s.

 

It’s tentative, and Jack relishes in the sweetness of it. Eric’s not like anyone Jack has ever met, and it translates into every little bit of him, the way his kitchen is organized, the way he takes his notes, the way his nose turns up softly. Jack shifts, and Eric hands turn to fists, gripping at Jack’s shirt, and he pulls Jack closer to him.

 

Jack catches Eric’s upper lip between his own, and Eric chases it. He smiles into it, too, and Jack is unbelievably charmed by it all. He smiles into Eric too, and then opens his mouth tentatively. Eric makes a breathless noise, and ends up walking them into the counter. When Eric bites at Jack’s lip, Jack turns them so that Eric is pressed into the counter’s edge. Jack steps back to make enough space to be able to hoist Eric up, and when Eric tugs Jack closer, Jack keens into his mouth.

 

Eric’s hands end up in Jack’s hair, and Jack takes his time kissing at Eric’s neck, his jaw, up to his ear and back down to his chin.

 

Jack has a hand on Eric’s thigh, and he doesn’t really plan to move it, but then the sound of a door slamming, and a voice saying, “Bitty, you home?”

 

Jack jumps back, and Eric groans, then says, “Yes, Derek.”

 

“Why’re you Dereking m-- Oh.” Jack doesn’t know how to look nonchalant, standing an odd few feet away from Eric, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He tries to shake out his shoulders, but if he looks anything like Eric does, clothes rumbled, lips red, hair a mess, then it’s not really a salvageable first impression.

 

“Hey,” Jack says, then clears his throat. “Hi. I’m Jack.”

 

Derek, Jack assumes, nods his head, then sticks out his hand to shake Jack’s. “Nursey. Derek. Nurse. I know who you are.”

 

Jack nods, and says, “Okay. Cool.”

 

He looks over at Eric, who is blushing furiously and glaring past Jack at his roommate. Jack says, “I should get going.”

 

Derek says, “Oh, no, uh, I should, I’ll just. It was nice to meet you.”

 

“Bye, Derek,” Eric says, and Jack starts laughing the second they’re alone again. He turns to Eric, who looks embarrassed and flustered and a little put out, and he steps back into Eric’s space. When he touches Eric’s thigh again, it’s not heated at all, and Jack is still shaking with laughter. “Sorry,” Eric says, but then he starts laughing too, soft little gasps of air that leave his lungs.

 

“It’s okay,” Jack says. He leans forward to kiss softly at the corner of Eric’s lips, and says, “I really should go, though.”

 

Eric nods. “Okay,” he says. “Sorry, again.”

 

Jack smiles into Eric’s skin before stepping away finally, and Eric hops down from the counter. “I don’t have any roommates,” Jack says, as casual as he can manage. “If you ever--if you’re tired after work or if the weather’s bad or, whatever. You can always.” Jack shrugs. “I have a spare room.”

 

They reach the door, and Jack doesn’t know what to do, so he crouches and focuses on getting his shoes done up properly.

 

Eric says, “I’m not sure I’d want to stay in your guest room.”

 

Jack nods, and stands. He puts his hands in his pockets. “Okay,” he says. “That’d be. That’d probably be fine, I think.”

 

Eric smiles. “I think so, too.”

 

“Okay,” Jack says again, and Eric reaches by him to open the door.

 

“Get outta here before I jump your bones,” he says, and Jack realizes that he’s getting a kick out of flustering Jack, and so Jack bites his lip.

 

“I’m back from Columbus Saturday night,” he says, because he wants to make plans to see Eric as soon as possible, but it’s hard. They’re both busy.

 

“I work 5:30 to 2 on Sunday, and I’ll probably need a nap after, but I have Monday off, and no class until noon, so I could be free Sunday evening?”

 

Jack nods. “Works for me,” he says.

 

Eric smiles, and shoos Jack out the door. “It’s a date, then.”

  
Jack sneaks back towards Eric quickly, kisses him softly, his hands coming up to frame Eric’s face. He pulls away, reluctant, and says, “Can’t wait.”

 

 

 


End file.
